


mirror

by merriell



Series: antarlina (e) [11]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21936628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merriell/pseuds/merriell
Summary: 2013, 2023. The history between Reno and Adam: the blood, the secret, the mistakes.At the end, only both knew what truly transpired.
Series: antarlina (e) [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1431253





	1. Reno

SOUTH JAKARTA

Moreno Makarim did not simply see the future. He _knew_ it.

Some people would need dreams or meditation to hear even a shred out of the threads of fate. Reno only needed one second to receive Skuld’s image inside his brain. He was so used to it that knowing was only a part of his day-to-day activity.

He moved one step to the side once he heard of a shrill laughter from the couple who was running not far ahead of him. They continued running, ramming straight to the place where the Arab-descent man used to stand. Only the polyester from the shirt she was wearing scraped against Reno’s shoulder.

Everything seemed so _common_ to him. Just a part of his monotone, daily life. When he could sleep in to avoid cancelled classes, when he needed to depart from his house an hour early to avoid a car crash that caused a long traffic, which part of the test he needed to study—even the stares and whispers from his classmates once they’ve heard of his perfect GPA.

He stopped his stride in the center of the law faculty’s corridor, one class away from the room he was supposed to walk into. He was slightly too quick, he knew.

“Ren!”

He turned just as the scent of sandalwood hit him. A long-haired brunette grabbed his shoulder, and of course, as Reno’s gaze moved to the side, the man was accompanied by a thicker man, wearing a flannel that was one-size too small for his body.

“Morning,” he murmured, only to the first man than to anyone else. “Coffee?” He handed the iced coffee he was carrying to Adam, the Indo-Australian halfie that was his only friend in the building. “There was a buy-one-get-one. Sorry, Den,” he added as he swayed the hot latte on his other hand.

“I’ve already drank coffee,” Raden answered disinterestedly. He fixed the strap of his black backpack, strewn carelessly on his shoulder. The highest button of his shirt hung on for its dear life, pulled apart by the pressure of his bag and pull of the button hole.

“Thanks, Ren,” Adam took the iced latte from Reno’s hand. His gaze scanned the label that was stuck in the side of that plastic cup. “Wow, you got my order right.”

“Purely coincidental,” answered Reno, as if he didn’t know exactly what was the right order for Adam when he dropped by Starbucks’ drive-thru that morning. “My pleasure.”

* * *

He stopped his car amidst a parking area of a restaurant in Kemang, ten minutes before his appointment with Adam. The roar of the air conditioner growled around him, obliterating the silence coming out of the turned-off radio. Reno reached for a pack of Marlboro Lights he had stowed shotgun. His hand turned the window near him down as his other hand pushed up a cheap plastic lighter he had tucked inside the wrapping of the cigarette packaging.

The lighter was burning when his eyes caught a familiar figure who walked out of the restaurant entrance. Reno raised his brow. The hair which used to grow to his shoulder, was now cut into a proper, respectable hair-cut. The basketball uniform, damp with sweat, was replaced by a white shirt with two buttons off. The figure, though, was as enchanting as the boy he had thrown a water to, as bright as the glare of the sun that day in his school.

 _Kinan Raka Mahardhika_.

His mind had been so filled with Adam that he had completely missed the guy in front of him. An instinct told him to get off his car and greeted him, just to see if he remembered him—only for his hand to stop around his car handle, realizing that Kinan was not alone. The man behind Kinan was pale-skinned and wearing thick glasses—not amongst the guys that accompanied Kinan that match. On one of his arm was a light white coat. It looked like the coats they used to wear when they were dissecting frogs at school’s laboratories.

Kinan smiled at the guy before embracing him by his shoulder, pulling him to walk to the farther end of the parking area. The cigarette between Reno’s mouth was forgotten. His breath hitched on his throat before he decided to turn off his car.

Adam was sitting comfortably in one of the chair at the corner of the restaurant, alone, not with his escort for once, when Reno walked in. Without saying anything, Reno sat across of his friend.

“You look like somebody just pissed on your breakfast, Ren,” Adam chuckled. He raised his hand to gesture the waitress lounging around at the bar to approach them with the menu.

Reno frowned, staring daggers at the table in front of him. “Nothing,” he answered flatly.

“Didn’t ask.”

The answer didn’t faze him. Reno ignored the menu the waitress was handing to him. “Aglio olio, scallop. Black coffee, hot.”

This is his first time coming to the restaurant. He was more of a Menteng, Senopati kind of guy, in comparison to the busy, overfilled Kemang streets. The only reason why he was here was because of Adam’s house, where his expat father resided, was located in the area instead of anywhere else.

He should’ve been pleased, at least a little bit, because he got to be alone with Adam, for once. Raden went off to Central Java to spend his vacation with his family, leaving him, with every member of his family in Jakarta, and Adam, with his lack of family in Indonesia, unoccupied. Yet the premonition he missed only served to sour the situation.

“So why did you even call me here?” Reno asked when the waitress took off with the orders. It was unusual for him to have to approach Adam by invitation and not the other way around.

“Your father’s doing his big, birthday party soon, isn’t he?” Adam started. “Why didn’t you invite me?”

The cigarette, halfway to his mouth, stopped midair. There was something stuck in his chest, made his teeth gnash by pressure. Adam only stared at him, but whatever was in Reno’s face, Reno was sure he couldn’t read. He pushed out a stick of cigarette from the pack before he replied. “You want to come?” It wasn’t a question as much as a statement.

He was trained to hide any hint of his feelings from his eyes, especially when it came to disappointment. But he couldn’t hold the anger off his chest even if he tried. The burn of the rage choked him, made his throat raw with disappointment.

“Of course, I want to. I’ve heard of your father’s parties... it’s always filled with so many connections. You know that my family is new in this world...”

A lone, female voice in his head echoed, _everybody wants something, Moreno_.

“I hope you don’t think I’m being untoward, Ren.”

“I’ll try to send you the invitation,” Reno pressed at the handle of his lighter, trying to light his cigarette. The fire from that fucking cheap plastic only flickered without any indication of succeeding to burn the end of that damned cancer stick.

“Here, let me,” Adam stood up from his seat and snapped his finger until a small, green fire lit up at the tip of his finger. Nimble. Before Reno could say anything else, he pressed the blaze at Reno’s cigarette.

They exchanged stares. There was an undisturbed, weird bubble around them neither want to disturb.

Reno gulped.

Something in Adam’s throat moved.

Adam was the first one who broke it. He waved his hand until the fire disappeared as he sat back down on his chair. “You know, I heard a rumor from Raden,” he started, “his cousin was in the same school as you. She said you dated a guy during high school.”

Reno’s blood froze. “The rumor—“

“I want you to know,” Adam cut him before he could say anything else. “I’m okay with you. But you’re not going to.... like, like me, right? Cause that would be fucking weird, man.”

He knew the words were meant to calm him down. But all he could taste was the blood from his mouth, the bubbling rage in his throat.

“No,” he smiled, “that would be really, really strange.”

* * *

_Homo!_

The car that used to be flawless was then housing a nasty scratch created with something sharp. People crowded around Reno, filling Reno’s ears with whispers that felt like it was raining him with insults. Reno glanced behind and the whispers turned to silence who felt even worse, pairs upon pairs of eyes that avoided his gaze.

He could see them. He could see that pictures were already being taken. His face was perturbed, _terrified_. By night, the pictures would be everywhere, and he would either be a martyr in the social justice community or vilified by people who found out he was a Moslem.

It barely mattered. There were only two names that was brave enough to touch him like this, and there was only one who had a _motive_.

* * *

His feet brought him past people walking past him, their gazes lingering as soon as they recognized his face. There was a stern message from his father hanging heavy inside his pocket. He paid it no mind. The coffee shop near his faculty was somewhere he frequented with Adam and Raden—it had shitty coffee, but the wifi was quicker than anything in the rest of the campus. He knew the person he was searching would be sitting outside with his hair tied up, smoking.

Adam Haryadi seemed shocked to see him. Meanwhile, Raden, who sat beside Adam, stood up to barricade him from taking another step closer to his _friend_ , before he could pull him by his collar and shove him to the brick wall.

“I know what you did,” Reno could feel his calm fury enveloping his words. “And after all that bullshit about acceptance? Fuck you, Dam. You’re doing this _only_ because what I said to you?”

“I don’t know what you’re accusing me off.” Adam snorted, dismissing him.

“You know what you _did_.”

“Okay. You think I did it. But we’re not _commoners_ , Ren. We’re law students. Do you even have evidence to back up your claims?”

“You’re the only one who knows about it. I trusted you.”

At that, Adam only laughed, cruelly. “What are you talking about? The whole school _knows_ about you. Those _dirty_ things you did.” He stood up. His hand gestured at his crony to move aside. Raden only moved slightly to the left, still close enough to hurl if necessary. “If you’re still so keen that I did it, you can sue me. But you know...” this he whispered to Reno’s ear, intimate, his breath hot against his skin, “I have nothing to lose here, unlike you. As you said, I’m _no one_. What would your faher say, I wonder?”

He shoved Adam so hard that the taller man’s back hit the table. The next thing he remembered was Raden’s fist on his jaw, and the blood in his mouth.

Moreno Makarim knew what the future was in his brain. His first mistake was ignoring all the things he knew in favor of his feelings for Adam. Reno knew he did not have a second mistake. He spat out the blood curdling in his mouth to the pavement on his feet, before closing his eyes and calling out the name of the entity he had summoned the night before.

_Do it._

_Just fucking do it._

Adam was walking past him when the magic started. He fell to his knees, choking on his own blood. Far away, Reno could hear the screaming. He could see Raden turning to him, knowing at once that his friend’s condition was happening because of Reno.

It felt powerful.

It felt sweeter than any touch Adam had bestowed on his skin, any of their late night talks, any of their secret rendezvous—

But no one need to know that.

Reno smiled at Raden before laughing loudly.

His second mistake was his laughter.


	2. Chapter 2

JAKARTA, 2023

“So,” the person across of him took a sip of the Bordeaux that was shared between them, “what really happened between you two?”

He _understood_. This was the kind of history people talk in parties, as the center of attention, the kind that would last a lifetime. He chuckled into his wine, eyeing the Cartier the person was wearing, casual, covered by his blazer. Expensive. Even his father wouldn’t let him acquire one.

Over the years, he had told his story thousands of times, and the result would rather be sympathy or terrified. He had to omit the name of the person who gave him the nasty scar on his neck, of course, Mahir Makarim had _seen_ to that, but most people cared about the story more than they care about the person.

The person in front of him, on the other hand, cared more about the person rather than story.

“I guess I could tell you how it started,” he took a sip of the red wine, saccharine in his throat. He hated wine, always craving for the bitter and no the sweet; but when the bill was paid by the other person. “But whatever I say, you have to believe me, okay? At least to my face.”

Everybody loved ghost stories, loved it even when it wasn’t exactly _real_.

And Adam, Adam loved telling partial truths about what happened.

* * *

Here was what really happened:

Moreno Makarim was both a flag and a lifesaver. Even before Adam approached him, before he noticed who he was, the chatter of people around him reached his ears first before the actual person. _He has a perfect GPA of course he does he’s the son of that lawyer I never even see him pay any attention in class do you think he cheats._

His mother’s family was a bankrupt Batik producer in Yogyakarta, her lithe body spirited away by an Australian expat, his father with his thick hands and skin and his eyes burning with disinterest. They moved to Jakarta a few years ago, where Adam was enrolled to a private, boarding school filled with half-white children.

He had never heard of Makarim’s name.

Raden, however, grumbled as he asked. Their mothers were friends—old money families remained friends even when the money disappeared—he had lived in Jakarta all his life, and was more acknowledgeable with the comings and goings of Jakarta’s scene more than any member of his family.

“Here’s what I know, Dam,” Raden talked as he flicked away his cigarette, “when the rich thugs wanted protection from law, when some privileged kid accidentally killed someone doing drag racing, when someone get busted for possession of drugs, when someone get busted doing _any_ illegal shit and wants to get away with it—you go to Mahir Makarim. That’s his father. You go to him, and everything disappears. Everything gets cleared out.”

“Interesting,” Adam watched, full of interest, as Moreno Makarim stopped walking suddenly in the coffee shop near their faculty, taking a sip of his hot latte. No one noticed, but when he only started walking when the rowdy pair of girls stopped joking around and pushing each other into the space he should’ve walked in, he said, “ _Very_ interesting.”

And so, Adam took out a girl in his class trapped in the same group as Reno to switch study groups with him. He walked to Reno’s seat, sat down across of him, and smiled at him as he tied up his hair.

“ _Hey_ ,” he said. “I’m Adam.”

Reno did not seem surprised. He pressed his lips, thinly, and said, “You’re the one who switched with Sarah, I’m guessing.”

* * *

No, really, it started with this:

He took a sip of the coffee Reno had bought him that morning. As Reno left to the library, Raden scowled at the coffee and grumbled, in the thick, gruff, Magnum PI of him.

“Listen, you have to hear it first before he gets any wrong ideas,” Raden crossed his arms in front of him, warily looking around him although the dark-haired man had disappeared from the corridor. The late noon sun was making weird shadows in the gray tiles as they sneaked smoking near the balcony. “But I want you to know, my cousin was in the same high school as him.”

“Oh?” Adam was not paying attention. He was looking at Reno’s last exam notes, and was wondering how the fuck he had written down the necessary materials for every question and did not seem to care about any materials that wasn’t quizzed.

“He’s gay, Dam. He dated this guy from the soccer team.”

Adam raised an eyebrow but did not look up from the notes. How did he do it? Did Mahir Makarim had connection even to the faculty? Did he pay?

“ _Adam_. I’m afraid he has a crush on you.”

“That’s a little presumptuous,” Adam frowned, finally looking up. “I’m not interested in him.”

“It won’t matter if _he’s_ interested in you. Look, he only buys _you_ coffee.”

“This isn’t even that important. You know, I wonder if the rumor is true. His note is flawless. How did he get right every material that had been quizzed? Maybe there is nepotism at play—“

“Well, maybe to _you_ it isn’t that important,” Raden sighed audibly. “But you... don’t you think, if he’s gay, it’s important to keep away from him?”

Adam sighed. He never paid attention, but, even if it wasn’t true, Reno seemed like he tolerated him more than anyone in this goddamn school. He knew Reno hated Raden; it was _clear_ in the way he behaved. Reno liking him was not really that far-fetched.

“Well, it is important,” Adam squeezed his eyes closed, “not in the way that _you_ think, though.”

* * *

Maybe it did not really start that way.

It started, at least, after he had pressed the fire into his cigarette. After he disclosed to Reno that he knew he was gay—after Reno had practically said _yes_. It already started, at the very least, at Mahir Makarim’s birthday party, when Reno’s gaze paused at his suit, well-fitted and almost like a second’s skin.

Maybe Moreno taught himself as a puzzle, but Adam had been well-acquainted with desire, of lack thereof, in people’s eyes when they look at others, in his father’s gaze upon his mother.

Adam himself had no need of desire that was not for power.

“Abi,” Reno introduced him to his father that evening. His gaze was burning on Adam’s skin, and it lingered, even as Adam looked away, as Mahir Makarim and Adam Haryadi talked.

All night, Reno was a shadow upon him, always following, in silence, never taking off, but never really disturbing his orbit.

Adam did not know what was it growing in his own body.

He did not quite have a name for it.

In the bathroom—a big one, too big even for this amount of attendance—Adam was washing his hand when Reno walked out of the cubicle, reeking of cigarette. He thought he had smelled him before he even saw him.

He remembered what Raden said.

“I hope I didn’t disturb your father’s party,” he said, looking at Reno from the mirror.

“You didn’t.” Reno’s answer was surefire, quick.

“You don’t look like you’re enjoying the party.”

“I’m not a people’s person.”

“What person are you, Ren?”

A pause. Reno shrugged, pulling out his pack of cigarette. Adam was hit by the realization that around him, he could probably do anything. The fire alarm in the toilet was removed. No one was going to walk on them. The leaner man offered the cigarette to him, casual.

“I’m curious,” he didn’t accept it, let the offer hang heavily between them, “even as I said what I said on that restaurant, do you like me?”

Reno’s jaw tightened. He didn’t answer at once. He didn’t pull the offer away. “I like you more than others,” he answered flatly. Not quite an answer.

Here was a kingdom, Adam knew. Here was a kingdom he could rule in, could take apart in his bare hands until it was nothing but pieces and pieces upon his feet. He reached and touched Reno’s hand, lingering on the cold skin before taking a bite out of his cigarette.

“You approached me because of my father,” Reno stated as he pulled away, the cigarette between his fingers. Between them, the question might as well be vulnerability.

Adam pulled out a zippo from his Armani, grinning at his friend. “That’s not a question.”

“It isn’t.”

“Figures. I never hide my intentions.”

“Have you ever wanted to be my friend?”

He lit up the cigarette and smoked it. The smoke detector watched them in silence. Who disabled it? Adam might know the answer. He didn’t want to answer it. He put the cigarette between his lips and smiled at Reno.

“Have _you_ ever wanted to be my friend?” he asked back.

“No,” Reno’s answer was a quick one. He stepped closer.

Adam mirrored the gesture, stepped close enough to smell Reno’s cologne, could smell their scent mingling with each other. “No,” he repeated. He could see the unraveling of the other, the way he had his hands over him, all power, all _control_.

They didn’t take another step closer.

Here was the only thing clear about the two of them.

* * *

That was the start, the match he threw to the oil, the blaze of the fire that burned, but as Adam discovered, he quite liked playing with fire.

It started: their meetings, just the two of them, where his escort truly changed from Raden to _Reno_ , all the endless amount of opportunities and connections that suddenly fell into his lap, with just a lingering touch in Reno’s skin, never really touching, kept him wanting for more.

Until,

They were drunk in his house in Kemang, his mother’s off doing God-knows-what with her friends, his father’s off doing God-knows- _who_ , in his couch, the Netflix playing something stupid on screen. None of them were paying attention with the fire whiskey in their veins.

Until:

His father walked in with lines of hickeys in his neck, his sweetheart in his arm, and Adam stood up in alarm and panic. Reno didn’t move from the couch, still nursing the fire whiskey on his arm. Both his father and the sweetheart stared at them both.

“Oh,” his father hiccupped. “Here’s my son and his _boyfriend_.”

He didn’t remember much that night. He remembered dragging Reno to his room, anger and panic a cocktail in his stomach. Shoving Reno roughly to the bed.

“You _know_.”

Reno stared at him, amusement in his eyes, and did not move from his position. “I know what?”

“You know he would walk in like that. Why didn’t you warn _me_?”

“I don’t care about them,” Reno simply answered. “I didn’t know it would bother you that much.”

Adam laughed, almost maniacally. Later, he would blame the whiskey for the behavior. “You’re sick, egoistical bastard,” he stood over him on the bed, glaring at him and his heavy-lidded eyes, “you have that power in your disposal, and yet you only use it for yourself.”

Reno almost laughed. “You’re the one to talk.”

“You can use that power to save everyone, to help everyone. Yet you’re here. Yet you use it to cheat, to bypass everything, even with your _privilege_.” He spat it on Reno’s face, who remained as a still water. “Is it not enough to have a father like that? Is it not enough to have Mahir Makarim as your father that you need to cheat the system to be _perfect_ at everything, as if you’re not already privileged enough.”

Reno’s hand landed on his arm. He didn’t realize that he was leaning to him, their faces close. “Don’t say things you know nothing about,” his body felt warm under Adam, yet he sounded like ice in his ear.

“You are a bad person,” he murmured, his voice low, “you are everything that’s bad about this world.”

They almost touched. A breath’s away.

“Reno, you’re an ungrateful, little bitch.”

Reno stared at him from under his heavy-lidded eyes, and Adam had never felt like he was exposed by a single stare, but he felt naked, felt like Reno was the one with the power even with their position.

“And you, Adam, are _no one_ ,” he whispered.

Adam never wanted to destroy someone as much as he wanted to destroy Reno.

What happened that night, Adam did not like telling to anyone.

* * *

Depending on who you were asking, of course, it also started that noon, when he struggled to remember what happened when his lawyers, when the detectives were asking. At the end, no one could figure out what really happened—not that it mattered when they knew _who_ did it.

At the end, Reno got expelled, the restraining magic was bestowed upon him, and he passed Reno in the hallway of the court and whispered: _you deserved it_.

That day, he felt like he won.

At nights, with nightmares upon nightmares of him bleeding out on the pavement, of Reno’s laughter, of Reno’s smile, of Reno’s low voice in his room that night, _you’re no one_ , Adam did not feel like he had win their battle.

He still wanted to destroy him.

He still wanted to have him under his feet.

He still wanted to take away everything he had.

He still wanted to _own_ everything he was.

Some days the line blurred that he didn’t know where each feeling started or ended.

* * *

Of course, when anyone asked, he told the story like this: they were friends, Reno accused him of outing him, Reno assaulting him, they went into court, and everyone loses. This night was nothing’s different.

“I’m curious,” the person across of him frowned, “do you regret being friends with him?”

There was a thousand-dollars question. This was a question he never knew what the answer to, even know, years after. He watched his red wine swirl inside his glasses. He remembered Reno’s scent—sometimes, he could still smell him, even when he knew it was not possible.

“Can’t you just ask him?” he shot at once. When he didn’t answer, Adam find himself laughing. “He didn’t tell you? Of course, he didn’t, it’s Reno, for God’s sake.”

“You’re the only other person who really know what happened.”

Adam wanted to dissect the person in front of him. He wanted to tie and open him up, figured out what it was that was so different between _them_ that Reno was a lovelorn puppy around him and not the Reno Adam _knew_ he was. The bad person. The egomaniac. The sociopath.

One thing he knew for sure was that Kinan Mahardhika was in love with the sort of person he had no business falling in love with.

A person that Adam wanted to _own_.

“Yes,” Adam answered, with a small smile. “Just as you will regret dating him, soon enough.”

Kinan Mahardhika looked at him and frowned.

It made no matter that he believed Adam or not. It mattered that he listened, planted that seed in his mind, and _doubt_.

And Adam, Adam had always loved playing with _Reno_.


End file.
